


The Other Side: Part Thirty Three

by PiscesPenName



Series: The Other Side Series [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Impala, puppy, sweet smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-16 22:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15447228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PiscesPenName/pseuds/PiscesPenName
Summary: Dean returns and brings Carrie a gift.





	The Other Side: Part Thirty Three

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catherine Curl](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Catherine+Curl).



Carrie heard the impala announce Dean’s arrival before she saw him. Carrie ran to the mirror in a futile effort to apply a splash of lipstick and fix her hair. 

 

She opened the front door and jogged out. Dean smiled up at her, head tilted to the side, teeth blinding in his infectious smile. “You look gorgeous,” he declared, looking gorgeous. 

 

She threw herself into his arms and he wrapped them around her and rocked her gently. “I think you're about the happiest person to see me in my life,” he mumbled.

 

She sighed and stayed in his warmth. “I probably am.” 

 

His arms were so impossibly big around her: strong, comforting, sure. He tilted her head up to look at him and captured her lips in a rapturous kiss. “Hey,” he whispered. 

 

“What?” she asked, breathing heavily. 

 

“I got you a present.” 

 

She quirked her eyebrow. “You did?”

 

“Yep.” 

 

She grinned and reached down for his belt. “Is it in here? Do I get to unwrap it?” 

 

Dean laughed and tugged his hips away from her. “No. It's in the impala. Wanna go grab it for me?”

 

“Alone?”

 

He shrugged. “I'll come with ya.” 

 

Carrie tentatively wandered over the driveway. It smelled like tar in the midday sun. 

 

She reached Dean's car and opened the handle cautiously, peering in, looking for a package.

 

Something moved and she leapt back. “Holy shit, somethings In your car!”

 

Dean laughed. “Take a look inside.” 

 

He shoved her with his elbow and Carrie bent down. She was greeted with an enthusiastic tongue and peach fuzz. 

 

"A puppy!' Carrie picked it up and let it lick her face, her heart leaping with affection. "You got me a dog?"

 

Dean was studying her. “You like her?”

 

“Oh my god. I love her!!” Carrie squashed the apricot-haired mop to her chest, feeling tears bubble up to the surface. The puppy returned her excitement and wriggled furiously. “How precious are you?” She asked, blinking furiously.

 

She turned to see Dean watching her with a sadly bemused smile. 

 

“What?” she asked, trying to avoid the kisses. 

 

“Nothin.” He grinned wider. “I'm happy you like her. Friggin thing almost peed on my seat on the way here.” 

 

“Where did you get her? She looks like a purebred poodle.”

 

He shrugged. “Trade secret.” 

 

She laughed and kissed his cheek. The puppy followed suit and he squirmed. “Uh!” He frowned. “ All it wants to do lick every exposed part of my body.” 

 

Carrie winked. “She's smart.” 

 

Dean laughed. “Come on. It's too frigging hot out today.”

 

* * *

 

Dean's arm snaked around her as they sat on the couch. He was warm and solid. Carrie felt safe. 

 

The puppy had taken up exploring, gamboling into corners and sniffing the floor. She yipped at the wall, tail wagging.  

 

Dean snorted. "Thing is on crack."

 

"She's just excitable like all puppies." Carrie watched her with unconcealed affection. "What should I call her?"

 

"Bruiser." Dean said ironically. 

 

Carrie rolled her eyes. "Okay you aren't allowed to name the dogs, apparently." 

 

She looked up at him with unspoken adoration. "I still can't believe you got her for me. I thought you didn't like the idea."

 

He shrugged. "It's your dog not mine, besides you need someone to keep you company." He studied her for a moment, his lip twitched. "I like to see you happy."

 

She swung her leg over him, pulled herself onto his lap to straddle him. She settled her weight into his lap, her knees on either side of him. 

 

He smirked and tilted his head back to watch her. "You belong up here."

 

She put her arms round his neck and leaned back a little, sticking her chest out. Mossy green eyes wandered to her cleavage. 

 

She edged her top up and off. 

 

He grunted. "God Damn you are sexy."

 

His praise made her smile and she felt a happy warmth go through her. If Dean thought she was sexy...well, then just maybe she was. 

 

He put his hands on her sides, his gaze still wandering her exposed skin. She could feel him hardening through his jeans. 

 

The want in his eyes turned Carrie on. The way Dean wanted her was an aphrodisiac. The way he never seemed to have enough of her body. 

 

His big hands slid up her sides and his thumbs grazed her nipples. She felt small and slight compared to him. 

 

She'd almost completely forgotten the puppy until Dean shifted his foot. “Hey come on, rat.” 

 

She turned and the poodle had seized the pant leg of his boot cut jeans between her teeth and was giving it a shake. He moved to yank himself free. Carrie laughed and swung off to pick her up. 

 

She found herself restrained with an arm around her chest. “Hey.” 

 

“Don't let the mutt distract you.” 

 

“She probably needs to go out.” 

 

Dean sighed and let her go. Carrie picked the puppy up and cradled her to her bare chest. Her fur was cloud soft. She kissed the puppy's head. She bent to grab her shirt and she saw Dean's look of disappointed resignation. 

 

* * *

  
  


The puppy finished the kibble Dean had bought for her.

 

“How about Bella?” Carrie asked.

 

“NO.” Dean replied adamantly. “Do not name the damn thing Bella.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Just don't.” 

 

“Okay.”She paused, a little thrown by his vehemence. “Chloe?”

 

He shrugged. 

 

“Come here, Chloe.” Carrie tried experimentally. 

 

Then puppy cocked her head. 

 

Carrie squealed, clapping her hands. “She likes it.”

 

“Yay.” Dean replied without enthusiasm. 

 

“Awww. Dean. How can you not love her?” 

 

He shrugged. “I've never been a little dog guy.”

 

“Never had a dog?”

 

“Naw.” He took a swig of beer and leaned back against the couch, cocked an eyebrow. “Can we pick up where we left off?”

 

She gave him an innocent look. “Where was that.” 

 

“You were about to ride me like a bronco.” 

 

She snorted. “Oh I was, huh?”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

She straddled him again and tilted her chin to look into his eyes. 

 

“Ride me hard and put me up wet, sweetheart.” 

 

“What if I don't want to?” 

 

“Please?” The way he said it wasn't playful. It sounded like a genuine request. 

 

She took her hand and brushed her fingers along his high cheek bone. He kept his gaze on her. 

 

“Please?” He asked again.

 

She leaned her forehead against his. 

 

He blinked, long lashes and pleading looks. 

 

Carrie took his hand in hers and slid it under her shirt. 

 

* * *

  
  


Carrie woke Dean with a pat on his knee. He'd slipped into a doze, his head against the arm of the couch, one leg on the floor, his torso a little twisted. She leaned over and kissed his forehead as he blinked sleepily. 

 

“Just me.” She soothed. “Go back to sleep. I have to go to work for a couple hours. I'll be back about 8 tonight, okay?”

 

He gave her a groggy acknowledgement. Carrie moved his leg back onto the couch and gently encouraged him to untwist at the waist. He drew his knees up and rolled to his stomach. She covered him with a blanket. 

 

“Chloe is sleeping in the bathroom with some blankets. I'll take care of her when I get back home.” 

 

Dean shrugged and fell back to sleep. 

  
  


Carrie opened the door and tossed her keys to the table. “Dean?”

 

She ducked around the corner. There were several more empty beer bottles strewn around and Dean was again passed out on the couch. Chloe was asleep partially under one of his arms as he lay on his stomach. They looked so blissfully peaceful together that her heart gave a lurch. 

 

Dean stirred and Chloe saw Carrie and wiggled free with an excited yip, bounding off the couch with a clicking of nails and pawing at her leg. 

 

Dean rolled and blinked, his hair askew. 

 

“Hey,” he grumbled. 

 

“Hi.” She picked up the dog. “You have a party?”

 

“Yeah.” He grimaced. 

 

“How'd Chloe get out?” 

 

“Thing was crying so I let it out and it wanted to sleep with me.” 

 

“Awww. She was lonely.” 

 

Dean sat up and ran his hands through his hair. “It's loud for a little thing.” 

 

“So are babies.” 

 

He nodded. “Okay yeah. You win on that one. Sam had a set of lungs on him.”

 

“Fussy baby?” She asked, cradling Chloe close. The scent of puppy fur filled her nose. A welcome respite from the antiseptic smell at work.

 

“After our mom died... My dad would just sit there holding his head like he had a migraine. I can still picture him.” Dean got a faraway look. 

 

Carrie's eyes took on a sympathetic expression. “Poor John. He must have been so over his head.” 

 

Dean seemed to snap back to himself. He stood up and cleared his throat. “Yeah. I guess he was.” 

 

She walked over to him, the puppy still snuggled in her arms. “Were you a good boy or a little brat?” She asked playfully. 

 

Dean smirked at her. “A good boy.” 

 

She raised an eyebrow skeptically. 

 

“You don't think I was good?” He asked with his same lopsided grin. 

 

She shrugged and he encroached on her space. He lips hovered next to hers. Chloe wriggled and licked him.

 

He groaned and stepped away. “Thanks dog. Way to cock block.” 

 

She let her down and the dog bounded off to attack something in the corner. “I bet you had to be spanked a lot.” She said flirtatiously.

 

“I told you I was a good boy.” Dean smirked again, looking anything but. 

 

“You're such a liar.” 

 

“I was a good boy!” He insisted. “But...I've done a lot of things in my teenage years that warrant a spanking... I probably need a spanking now.” 

 

She smiled, wrapped her arms around him, laid her head on his chest.

 

“That's not a spanking.” He rumbled. 

 

She have him a swat on one firm ass cheek. “Hush.” 

 

“Better.” He said. 

 

She sighed into him. “... ever want to switch the spanking scenario?” 

 

“Huh?” He asked, pulling away. “You want to be spanked?” 

 

“No.” She said, tilting her head. “Just wondering if it appeals to you.” 

 

“No.” He said immediately. “I mean a swat, yeah. But more than that?” 

 

“I thought you'd feel that way for some reason.” She took his hand and toyed with his elegant fingers. “Relax,” she told him. “I don't want you to do it. I just like to know what you're thinking sometimes.” 

 

“Nothing good.” He replied. “Never anything good.” 

  
  
  



End file.
